


a stroke of inspiration

by kiycse



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee date, Fluff, KageHina - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, artist kags, for hinatas bday, kags w/o volleyball, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 16:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15004739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiycse/pseuds/kiycse
Summary: Kageyama Tobio, the most genius artist of his generation, was having an art block. And a major one, at that.Frustrated, he paints only with black, hoping the dark color would eventually bring him some motivation.So imagine his surprise when one day, while searching the art supplies cabinet for the aforementioned paint, he stumbles across a boy wedged between the bottles of paint, claiming that he was hiding:"Shut up, you'll blow my cover!"Could this strange boy quite possibly be the stroke of inspiration he was looking for?





	a stroke of inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> for hinata's birthday (6/21/18) :)

Painting was always something that Tobio found solace in, whether it was for an assignment, or for recreational purposes during his leisure. Starting at the ripe age of five, he was quickly labeled as some kind of genius artist and adopted the name "King of the Colors" after his first contest, where he had blown all other competitors out of the water.

However, his sudden rise to fame within Japan left room for criticism, too much criticism for a child to even comprehend.

_"Mom, why do people hate my art?" Twelve-year-old Tobio asked morosely one day after reading a particularly hurtful review about his recent piece._

_His mother paused, unsure of how to respond before placing a hand on her son's shoulder comfortingly. "Well... do you want to quit painting?" she inquire, choosing to avoid the question instead._

_Tobio gasped like his mother just told him that milk was banned across Japan and shook his head violently. "No, I would never! I love art!"_

_His mother smiled gently and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Then just keep painting and don't listen to them. Paint for yourself, honey. Paint for people you love."_

Ten years later and he grew to despise the nickname "King of the Colors." Ten years later and his mother's advice still gnawed at his mind. Ten years later and he had stopped following it. Although he was an incredible artist, he had a horrible temper that was unleashed whenever his nickname was mentioned. This was first made aware to the public when he had lashed out at a critic who had brought up the name during the last gallery of his high school career, and when prestigious colleges heard of it, they chose not to accept him and Tobio ended up in his local college.

Tobio hated how just thinking about the stupid nickname had already ruined his day and to even further his displeasure, he not-so-gently squeezed the daylights out of his poor paint bottle before scowling at its emptiness.

Grumbling to himself, he moved to check the supply closet to replace his bottle, annoyed at just about everything. However, all traces of earlier irritation was replaced by confusion and perhaps growing curiosity when he heard shifting noises coming from within the cabinet.

"Hello?"

Bending down, Tobio blinked confusedly as he opened the cupboard of art supplies, only to find a short, ginger-haired boy wedged between the brushes and the cans of paint.

"Shh– I'm hiding," was the only response he got before the cabinet door was abruptly slammed shut on Tobio's face.

 _What the hell?_ Tobio thought to himself as he attempted to pry the door open again. _Who was this kid? He definitely didn't belong in a college art class. And what was he hiding from?_

"Hello? Could you open up?" He tried approaching the boy politely again, but was instead met by a rude remark:

"Shut up, you're blowing my cover!"

 _Who did this kid think he was?_ He hissed inwardly as he pounded on the wooden cupboard, not caring if he looked like a psychopath to his fellow classmates. "Could you at least give me the goddamn black paint?"

Black paint. That's all he seemed to be using lately. Maybe the squalid color was metaphorical, like his current lack of artistic inspiration, or something along those lines. Tobio was in a never-ending rut and he had no idea how to break the routine.

Shaking his head to clear the negative thoughts, he was suddenly distracted when he heard the boy talk again.

"Why black? Shouldn't you use something more colorful? You're an art major right?" The strange boy inquired, his voice muffled behind the wooden door.

"I don't need advice from someone hiding in an art supplies cabinet."

"Shut up—!"

"Why the fuck are you hiding anyway? Because unless the Yakuza are hunting you down, I'm getting my black paint," Tobio growled as he pulled on the cupboard handle again.

"No, don't!"

"Don't what?!" Tobio felt silly talking to a cupboard, but he was determined to get his paint.

"Don't use black paint! Art enables you to find yourself right? How are you supposed to find yourself through the color of nothing?" The ginger urged, his words coercing Tobio to give up the paint.

"Dumbass, how am I supposed to find myself when I have the shittiest art block in the history of art blocks?" Tobio snapped as his limited patience slowly wore out. "Now answer me, why the fuck are you hiding and who are you hiding from?"

"The volleyball captain! I accidentally hit the vice-principal with a ball and now Captain Sawamura is coming after me!"

"Wait, volleyball captain? Vice-principal? You attend this school?"

"No, of course not. I just snuck in through the gate, somehow knew my way around campus, and just picked a random cabinet to hide in," the boy mused pointedly.

"Jesus fucking christ, no need to get sarcastic. I just thought you were a grade-schooler who got lost or something."

"I'm not that short!"

"Need I remind you that you fit in a four foot cupboa—"

Suddenly, Tobio was cut off by a deep voice right outside his classroom shouting, "Hinata!"

"Oh crap, they're onto me! I've gotten run!" Hinata shrieked, slamming open the wooden door—right into Tobio's waiting face.

"Shit, ouch, you fucking dumbass!" Tobio swore as he clutched his nose.

"Gwah, shoot, I'm so sorry!" Hinata apologized sincerely, hurriedly fishing an empty gum wrapper out of his pocket and scribbling something on it. "That's my number, I'll buy you coffee next time to make up for giving you a bloody nose!" He added, shoving it into Tobio's hand and already making his way out of the classroom.

"Dumbass, my nose isn't bleeding!" Tobio internally cringed as he felt the liquid dripping down his face and covered his nose with his arm.

"Idiot, why would you lie about that?" Hinata laughed genuinely as his blithe voice faded down the hall.

Sighing, Tobio stuffed the wrapper into his pocket and cleaned himself up, walking back into the classroom not a moment later.

He eyed the same cabinet that had just whacked him in the face just a minute ago, then took out the paper from his pocket again.

Hinata, that was his name, Tobio thought to himself as he made his way to the cupboard of art supplies and reached for the black paint.

However, just as his fingers curled around the bottle, Hinata's cogent words echoed into his mind: _"Art enables you to find yourself right? How can you find yourself through the color of nothing?"_

Suddenly, Tobio let go of the black paint and grabbed the bottle of orange as he was hit by an unexpected stroke of inspiration.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ! ^^
> 
> come scream w me about hq on tumblr (@tervshima)


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